HE ENTERED THE ROOM LOOKING RADIANT

 
Nariman died at 2:00 p.m., and it took several hours to make all the arrangements to take his body to Meherabad, so we didn't arrive there until 2:00 the following morning. The mini-bus we hired had to go very slowly, as it was raining, and we had to go over the Lonavla ghats (mountain passes) in the dark.

All the men and women mandali were waiting in Meherabad when Nariman's casket arrived. Everyone had high regard and affection for him. I was surprised and especially touched by the presence of Mehera, as she had never attended a man's funeral before, and it was very unusual for her to come out in the middle of the night. After Nariman's casket was placed on the Dhuni platform, we recited the Parvardigar prayer and sang the Bujawe Nar arti. Mehera laid the first rose on Nariman's chest, and the others did so in turn. As a special gesture Eruch placed a garland on Nariman.

Mehera stayed by my side, holding my arm. Suddenly she pointed to the sky and said, "Arnavaz, look!" Clouds covered the moon, yet its glow illuminated them, creating a lovely, clear image of our Beloved Baba's face looking down upon us.

The casket was taken from the Dhuni platform, and as it was lowered into the grave, everyone tossed flowers on top of it. Baba's image appeared once again, this time on the far inside wall of the grave, where His face and upper torso appeared to be carved into the earth. The image resembled one in a mural in His Samadhi which is on the right wall as one enters. Little by little Baba's image disappeared as the earth was thrown into the grave. Baba's gift of His Presence in these images comforted me. I was able to feel Nariman's peace and joy at the same time that I was feeling the pain of our separation. Baba alone knows what I experienced.

I have no words to express what I received from Beloved Baba through the pain and sorrow I felt after Nariman's death. I was reminded of a saying I had learned in school which has always remained with me: "The path of sorrow and that path alone leads to the land where sorrow is unknown." Physically and emotionally I was drained, and outwardly it might have appeared that I was grieving, but my separation from Nariman was not a loss; it was a gain. Again and again I found myself saying to Baba, "How can I ever thank You for what You are giving me in this agony. What can I do for You, my Beloved Baba; what can I say to You?" Baba drew me ever closer to Him, and through this deep and intense experience I also felt closer to Nariman than I had ever felt before.

Years later I had a powerful dream of Baba and Nariman. I was in a large room, and just inside the door was a big photo of Baba with an oil lamp burning in front of it. It was Nariman's birthday, and he entered the room looking radiant. As he took a few steps toward me, I said loudly, "Nariman, first bow down to Beloved Baba's photo." Nariman didn't seem to hear, and he continued walking toward me. I repeated myself. Then, when Nariman was just ten feet away from me, he was suddenly transformed into Beloved Baba.